I have the kind of
Knowledge you get
From spending too much time alone
Books are my solace
When I am lonely to the bone
I am a dreamer
I am a drunk
I am thinking all the thoughts
That Crusoe must have thunk
I have the kind of old soul
That runs away from pain
I know all about the price of love
And its small and subtle gains
I am a dreamer
I am a drunk
I am thinking all the thoughts
That Crusoe must have thunk
I might have misgivings
Along the way
But the train’s already moving
And the fare has been paid
Some come on now
All you words and songs
Give me that substitute
For which my soul longs
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
Hey, Gene, nice to see you are working on brightening the blogosphere. You might remember me from such films as “Freshman year in Cavanaugh Hall,” and “Farmers are dumber than you think.” I fiddle around at the blogging, but don’t do much in the way of original writing. You’ve got me whipped there.
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I do remember, spring should be coming to Ohio soon!
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